


Sympathy For The Devil

by taggiecb



Series: Satan/Santa [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Boys Kissing, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Devils, Elf Niall, Hell, Kissing, Letters to Santa, Letters to Satan, M/M, North Pole, Santa Harry, Satan Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 09:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13097163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taggiecb/pseuds/taggiecb
Summary: Louis keeps stealing some of Harry’s mail, which would be annoying for anyone, but it’s especially troubling when you consider that Harry is Santa Claus. Harry will have to go through hell to get Louis to stop. Literally.Or the one with Santa Harry and Satan Louis and a series of misspelled letters to Santa.





	Sympathy For The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank my beta [allwaswell16](http://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16) for betaing this fic and being the best beta in the whole wide world. She is my most favorite person in the universe and the greatest person I've ever known ever ever ever. She also edited this and uploaded this to ao3 for me because my laptop has died. She also might be writing my author's note for me. <3
> 
> ** While I appreciate all the comments, I would rather not have this fic translated. Thanks for understanding.

**~Hell 2017~**

Louis sits by the fire, reading glasses securely framing his face.  There is a small stack of letters placed on a table neatly beside him, most of them written with some sort of coloured device. He smirks when he reads the short note in his hand.

Dear Satan,

i have been good. I didn’t even punch Lexi when she stole my bubblegum. it was good bubble gum. Please bring me a skateboard.

From Josh

“I like this one,” he murmurs to himself, carefully placing the letter to the side and writing _Josh- skateboard_ on his short list before he reaches for the next.

He has to admit that ever since this Santa creature has popped up a couple of hundreds of years ago and kids have been sending Louis letters by accident, it’s some of the most fun he has down in his little corner of creation. He is the first to admit how grim things can get when you are the overseer of the most sinful, but it’s his burden to bear. Someone has to do it. What is wrong with taking up a hobby to break up the day?

“Do you think that we should decorate this year Liam?” Louis asks as Liam walks through the door, clipboard in hand. Louis can almost feel the breath that he takes to tell Louis the dozen or so things that he needs for Louis to confirm, deny, or approve of.

“I’m not sure I follow.” Liam responds. He is an excellent liar. It’s one of the reasons he is down here, but Louis has seen it all and knows Liam better than anyone. Better than Liam would even like to admit.

“Christmas is in less than a month. Look.” He points to the image in front of him. It’s no more than a mirage. Just a little window into the world above. “It’s snowing in Winnipeg.”

“How bleak.” Liam deadpans. Louis simply rolls his eyes. “But that is part of what I came to talk to you about.”

This perks him up somewhat, “More letters?” he asks.

Liam pinches his mouth into a straight line and silently places a thin stack on the table in front of Louis, but before he can reach for them, Liam stops him. “That is not what I came for. We are getting a request for entry.”

“Request for entry? You don’t need me to tell you that we don’t accept requests from the living. And all requests after passing are handled by HR.” Louis reaches for the letters once more, but once more Liam interrupts him.

“It’s not from a human.”

“What the fuck are you talking about Liam? Please just get on with it.” Liam always did have a flair for dramatics. His last human words were _‘Goodbye, cruel world,’_ and don’t think that Louis didn’t torture him relentlessly about that for a few decades.

“Santa, St. Nicholas, The big guy in red. Whatever you want to call him. He wants to talk to you.” Liam’s facial expression barely changes at all, but the exasperation is evident. Louis dares a glance at the letters. The one on top reading SATAN in big purple letters. “Yes I am assuming it’s about the letters.”

This, Louis’ downfall, is finally what pulls a smirk from Liam. Louis shoots him a look that reminds Liam that he is fully capable of wiping that smirk off his face before he turns his back, watching the gentle snow fall on a remote village in Canada.  

“Send him down.” He orders Liam. And before he is out of earshot he yells. “Take the nice way! You don’t need to scare the life out him!”

He can hear Liam sigh heavily before he clomps off to attend to his task. Louis reaches for the letters for the third time, but knowing who he is going to have to see in a few moments takes the magic away a bit.

 

***North Pole 2017***

 

Harry paces back in forth in front of the fireplace. He stares at a list of names once again, although it has been committed to memory by now. His head elf Niall sits in one of the large armchairs, watching him patiently.

“Maybe I should bring something with me,” he finally says, stopping his pacing for just a moment.

“Like what? Holy water?” Niall replies a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.

“I was thinking cookies. Mum has a lovely recipe for this Scotch cookie--”

“Harry!” Niall cuts him off from his rambling. “You aren’t stopping in for tea. This is a business meeting. With the actual devil. It’s not going to be like that toy company in California trying to make you look like a villain. This is the real deal.”

“I know that.” Harry shoots back, frowning. “That’s no reason to be unpleasant. Especially this time of year.”

“You are likely the only living being on earth who thinks he needs to be pleasant with Satan himself.” Niall snorts, taking a gulp of his eggnog, ears tinting red when he smiles at the taste. “This is the time for tough Santa! The one who fought literally every elf in the bear making department when you insisted on the rainbow bear. What a pain in the arse they were. “

“They were very successful.” Harry pouts, crossing his arms.

“That stubbornness is what you need! Be tough! Be firm! Tell him to release the letters and stop intercepting your mail!” Niall stands, fists in the air like he’s ready to go into battle.

“Fine, fine.” Harry relents. “His man will be here soon. Should I wear the suit?” Harry flattens his hands over his chest, looking down at his red plaid flannel shirt over his crisp white linen t shirt and his black jeans that end in a sharp black boot.

“Where you are going, I don’t think you will need the fur coat.” Niall squints at him, as though he’s studying him. “Do you have a business suit?”

“Ew, no.” Harry replies just as there is a knock on the door. A man in a dark black suit, black shirt and black tie walks in, nodding at both Harry and Niall.

“We are ready for you.” That is all the man says, and Harry nods, ready to follow him out the door. “It’s fine, we can leave from here,” the man says, and in a blink of the eye, his cozy office melts away, and he is standing in almost complete darkness. He looks around anyway, seeing nothing of interest, just what looks like charred black walls around him. The man knocks on what looks like a piece of wall, and there is a muffled voice on the other side. That is when a space opens in front of Harry, and the man beside him smiles for the first time. Although calling it a smile is a stretch, more like an evil grin. “Good luck,” he says, and it sounds malicious. Harry feels a chill in the pit of his stomach, but he walks forward anyway, ready to face whatever he needs to face to protect his kids for Christmas.

Harry walks into the lighted space, spine stiff, bracing for the worst of outcomes. He is immediately thrown off guard though because the room he enters into is disarmingly similar to the one that he just left at home. There is a large fireplace dominating the main wall of the room, two worn chairs set in front, a desk in the corner covered in paperwork, and stationary. The opposite wall is a large collection of books, leatherbound mostly. And the most surprising thing of all is the creature standing in the center of the room, staring at him intently.

“Hello?” Harry half whispers. This person--man--is looking at him as though he doesn’t know where he is at. Harry is wondering if he is lost, and how he got down here.

“Hi?” The man replies, sounding just as confused at Harry feels. “Can I help you?” The man says in the most politely, sweet voice that Harry ever expected to hear in, well, hell.

Harry struggles to find the words. What is the appropriate thing to call the devil? Satan? Devil? He plays it safe. “I have a meeting?”

The man smirks briefly. “Really? You don’t sound so sure. Who were you expecting to meet with?”

Shit. He feels weird even saying it out loud. “Satan?” The man is definitely suppressing a grin now. “At least that is what the scary man in the black suit told me.”

“Liam, yes. You have the right place. And what is your name?” The man is walking closer, a delicate hand resting against his chest. His hips sway slightly, but enough to almost be hypnotic. Like a seductress.

“My actual name is Nicholas Baris the 25th. But since there have been so many of us over the years, we tend to go by our middle names. So please call me Harry. And you?” Harry asks, finding himself almost desperate to hear the man speak again, to see his face move in expression.

“You are Santa Claus?” He asks, but not in the way that most people do, the ones who barely believe his family are still around at all. In a way that means that Harry isn’t what he expects or who he expects, which means that Harry knows who he is too.

“And you are Satan.” Disbelief filters into his voice as well. Satan simply lifts a brow in acknowledgement.

“Louis.” He replies sharply. “Short for Lucifer.”

“You are not what I expected.” Harry says the only thing that he can think right now. Lucifer, _Louis,_ is youthful and soft. He moves like a wave, fluid and purposeful. His skin is smooth and creamy, and his eyes are like the glaciers he sees when he leaves his home, bright and blue, sparkling in the light of the fire.

“You know I deal in lies and deception.” Louis eyes him up and down. “What makes you think I believe that you are Santa Claus?”

“I guess the same thing that makes me believe that you are the devil. You don’t look very devilish.” Harry jokes.  Louis flashes him a look that makes his blood run cold, and his cheeks heat up at the same time.

“I guess neither of us are represented accurately.” He concedes.

“To be fair my grandfather was a portly man. Drank a little too much. He is not who should have been representing the family in the dawn of the age of media.” He shrugs, but can’t help but smile at the facial expressions that Louis makes as he takes in the information. It’s partly the continuation of disbelief, partially consideration.    

“And what were you expecting?” Louis asks, still studying Harry. His head tilts slightly. “What did you think I was going to look like?”

Harry considers for a moment. “Red, horn, maybe a tail. More evil.” This, finally, gets a rise.

“What would make you think that I am evil?” Louis asks, sounding hurt.

“Um, you’re the devil.? The embodiment of evil?” Harry has to stop ending sentences as though they are questions. He is a smart man. He’s better than this.

“I am not evil.” Harry can feel his eyebrows shoot up dramatically but is powerless to stop his stare. “That is nothing but shameless propaganda by the old churches. I am a keeper of evil. More of a glorified prison guard so to speak. Evil is a human trait dear Harry, not an angel’s.         

“You are a thief though.” Harry replies, trying to sound assertive like Niall taught him. He needs to get to the point of this meeting. He doesn’t even know how long he has been here. How does time work in hell? How long could he listen to the devil rant about good and evil? “You stole my letters.”

Where most anyone would at least act chagrined by the confrontation, Louis crosses his arms and stares coldly at Harry. The only thing softening his face is his bottom lip ever so slightly jutting out. “They are addressed to me.”

“They are addressed to the North Pole.” Harry crosses his arms, mirroring Louis’ stance.

“This is simply discrimination against the addressless. They have my name on them.” Louis raises an eyebrow at him. It’s clear to Harry that Louis is enjoying their banter, but Harry can feel the prickle of sweat sting the back of his neck. He hates confrontation. His family are kind of famous for it. There is a reason for the night time visits.

“They are misspelled. They are just children.” Saying it out loud is a small reminder of why he’s here. The little ones. His little ones, so innocent, sending off a letter to the bringer of gifts and joy, only to have them stolen by the prince of darkness.        

“Why now?” Louis asks, and there is a tone in his voice that wasn’t there before. If Harry had to guess, he would think sadness, although of course his face gives nothing away. “I have been taking these letters for hundreds of years. Why do you care so much now?”

Harry stares at him for a moment, willing intelligent words to come from his mouth for even a moment under the scrutiny of Louis’ cold blue eyes. He can feel his face flush under the pressure of it. “ Well,” he starts out, voice weak. “It wasn’t always me. I just  took over the job a few years ago.” He rubs the back of his neck, the adrenaline of confronting Louis about the letters quickly waning. “And then it took a while--to work up the--” He coughs into his shoulder. “--courage.”       

Louis’ face barely makes a move, but Harry can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. Everything Louis thinks comes clear in them; it’s a power all on its own. Harry imagines that he does not have to say or do anything sometimes. Just give a look, and the entire world will know what he wants.  “You were scared to come to hell. Not exactly a shock.”

“I don’t like confrontation.” Harry pouts. Louis just nods, and this time Harry is sure that he is suppressing a smile.

“So i suppose you want me to stop taking the letters. Stop delivering their wishes.” Louis states, causing Harry’s mind to screech to a halt.

“You deliver gifts?” He squeaks and coughs again trying to hide it.

“Yes. They ask me for gifts, I deliver. That’s the deal isn’t? I haven’t gotten any complaints so far. Look,” Louis goes to his desk and picks up a piece of well worn paper. “I even have a list.”

He does indeed have a list. A chicken scratch of names and special requests carefully marked out beside them. It pales in comparison to the list that Harry processes every year, but at the same time, very much the same. In spirit anyway. He doesn’t know what to say as he gapes at Louis who is staring fondly at the page.

“Why?” The question is all he can manage.

Louis doesn’t seem surprised by the question, only smiling into the paper. “To see joy. To make someone happy. Someone who deserves it.” His face contorts back into a cloud for a moment as he looks at Harry. “You can’t imagine the horrors I see here, Harry. The evil that lurks in the human world. I have to deal with that. It is my responsibility. But this--” He picks up the small stack of letters. “ This is pure and good and joyful. This is what I have to counter the darkness.”

Suddenly, it hits Harry. “And you are willing to give it up just because I ask?” He swallows a lump that has found its way into his throat.

“They are your letters. I knew it was too good to last anyway.” Louis passes the letters to Harry, but holds onto his list. “But maybe I could ask--if i could finish this list?”

“You want to deliver these gifts?” Harry barely whispers, wanting to reach out to comfort or reassure Louis in some way.

“I really do. Then I will leave you alone.” He turns away, looking at something that Harry can’t quite see. Harry stands awkwardly for a moment, not knowing what to do until Louis silently summons him to follow. When Harry walks up behind him, he sees what looks like a window, but it’s not. It is actually a place that Harry knows pretty well.

“London!” Harry says in surprise taking in the scenery of Hyde Park receiving a fresh sprinkling of snow. There is a little girl grasping the hand of her mother tightly as her mother tries to hurry through the cold.     

“That’s Jane.” Louis says. She just turned seven. Her mother worries because she is behind in her reading and writing. I think she will be just fine.  She’s smaller than the rest of them. That is why I got her letter. I don’t know if there was a correctly spelled word in the entire letter. She tried though, and me and Liam finally figured it out. She wants a Fingerling. Damned near impossible to find. But I got it.” Louis sounds fond, and proud, and happy all in one.

Suddenly the window fades, and there is another image. this one inside a home. A very small child sits under their freshly decorated tree touching all of the gifts gently. “This is Tucker. He insisted on writing his own letter this year. Little spitfire that one is. Asked for a firetruck.

The image shifts once more to a woman. She is young, maybe early twenties as she sits outside, waiting for a bus. Harry recognises the place as California. “This is Jade. Her mother thinks she is too old to write letters to Santa. But she is still a child up here.” Louis points to his head. “And in here.” He touches his chest lightly. “She was in a car accident when she was ten and never really recovered. She will be ten for the rest of her life, I expect. She wants a new American Girl doll. She has so many now, but they make her smile.”

The window goes gray again, and Louis turns to Harry. “I can do this. I will do this.” He stares Harry down, making it clear that he isn’t asking permission. “Then I will leave you alone.”

Harry can only nod his head in assent, and suddenly everything is black until it isn’t and he is standing back in his office with a stack of letters in his hand, and a shocked head elf gaping at him.

~

Louis flops into his oversized chair and stares into the fire. That's not how he planned for that meeting to go. He feels exhausted. Emotionally exhausted. He only gets a moment of peace before Liam is barging into his office with a clipboard and a stern look on his face. “So the Santa gig is up?” Of course Liam was listening in. He sighs heavily. Liam ignores his excessive distress. “While I can’t say that I’m sad about losing the Christmas cheer, I am a little disappointed that you let him get the best of you.”

“He didn’t get the best of me.” Louis bites out. “I had no intention of fighting him.”

Liam actually looks surprised. “But it means so much to you.”

“It wasn’t mine to want.” Louis replies.

Liam pauses, contorting his face into a soft expression which is more unnerving than the cold glare that he usually sports. “I know that we don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, but I think that there is nothing wrong to go after what makes you happy. Maybe not in the way that I might do it, but there is such a thing as the pursuit of happiness.”         

“I don’t know. I am not Santa.” Louis curls up in a ball in his chair.

“No, you aren’t.   You are Louis. And Louis is a lot of things. Despite being here for as long as you have been, most of those things are good. You deserve good things sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Louis agrees, but it’s a weak response.

“And that Santa boy wasn’t too hard to look at either was he?” Liam tacks on as he walks out of the office, narrowly missing the flare of fire not so discreetly aimed at him from the hearth.

*

Niall stares at Harry for a moment before his mouth starts moving. “What happened? Didn’t it work? Did they reject you or something?”

“I was down there for hours, Niall.” Harry replies irritably. That meeting did not go how he planned for it to go. He got what he wanted, but he feels like he lost at the same time. He took joy from someone. Even if that someone was Satan. It’s not a great feeling.

“I blinked and you were gone. I blinked again, and here you are.” Niall replies, still clearly in awe. “You got the letters.”

Harry looks down, and sure enough, the letters are still firmly in his hands. Niall reaches out to take them but Hary pulls them towards himself protectively. “Niall.” he admonishes him.

“They need to be processed. It’s already December!” Niall reaches for them again, and Harry slaps it away.

“They have been processed--by Louis.” He avoids Niall’s eye as he places the letters carefully in his desk drawer. He isn’t ready to give them up just yet.

“Who the devil is Louis?” Niall asks, and Harry has to laugh. The irony.

“Louis is the devil.” He replies. “He is delivering these gifts.”

“Harry! How could you let actual Satan trick you like this?” Niall looks actually horrified. “I should have known. He would take one look at that baby face, and you would be done. I should have gone.”

“It isn’t what you think. He isn’t what you think.” Harry replies. Niall sighs, and looks at Harry with pity.

“I don’t know what he is, but I think that to trust him is foolish. You need to protect the kids. Please, let us process the letters. Just for my own peace of mind. He’s the devil Harry.” The pain in Harry’s chest is impossible to ignore now that Niall has put it so bluntly. He nods silently, and lets Niall take the letters from his desk. At least he has the decency to leave him alone after that. Harry drops into his arm chair, and almost immediately closes his eyes to find sparkling blue eyes dancing behind his eyelids.

*

The days leading up to Christmas are frantic at best. Harry loves the hustle and bustle of preparation, but when it comes down to the wire, he basically operates on caffeine and adrenaline. That is until Christmas Eve arrives. Harry dons his most sacred piece of clothing and climbs into the seat of the sleigh. When he picks up the heavy leather reigns and sees his travelling companions waiting impatiently for their orders, everything around him goes quiet, and he knows that this is exactly where he belongs.

After that everything is a bit of a blur, he never really has a whole lot of time to actually enjoy the job, too busy to make sure that he spreads joy to all of the sweet faces who count on him. He lands on one such place, and a flash of memory comes into his mind. The window in Louis’ office. This is Tucker’s house.

“You didn’t trust me.” A voice says behind him. Harry jumps even though he is not surprised at all.

“It’s myself that I don’t trust.” He replies, taking in Louis’ form. He’s dressed in all black, only the sparkle in his eye giving away that he is anything but a shadow. “When I left your place I was ready to give you everything that I had. Niall told me that I had just been charmed.”

“Niall?” Louis asks, and Harry notices that he is placing a big shiny fire truck under Tucker’s tree. Much like the one that Harry had in his sack.

“My version of Liam. Possibly scarier.” Harry replies. Louis chuckles softly.

“My version of Liam told me to pursue what made me happy.” Louis straightens back up, standing toe to toe with Harry.

“So does that mean that you are going to keep stealing my letters?” Harry asks, and he doesn’t find that it would bother him so much at all.

“Maybe. Maybe I have found something else that makes me happy.” Louis replies, smile crooked and eyes dancing.

Harry’s mouth goes dry.“You want my job?” He grips his sack protectively.

“I was thinking that maybe I like the guy in the suit more than the suit itself,” Louis says, looking Harry up and down.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not what I expected.” Harry says. He can feel the time ticking by. He can feel himself getting off track. It’s like an internal clock this time of year, but he can’t pull himself away from Louis. Not yet.

“I think I have heard that before.” Louis replies, seemingly also entranced in this little bubble they have created.

“I want you to keep stealing my letters.” Harry takes a step forward.

“I want to kiss you.” Louis replies. Harry can feel his heart hammer in his chest.

“Meet me at my house in the morning. My morning, North Pole time. Please. Spend Christmas with me,” he says, and Louis smiles, a large, unadulterated grin spreads across his face, and Harry wants to memorise it, it’s so beautiful.

Louis smiles, and suddenly he’s gone. For the first time Harry realises what a glow of light Louis brings with him because Harry is once again in the dark. He sets off to see his next child.

~

Louis is in the confines of his office when he feels Harry land at his home. It’s just one of those things that he is able to do. He knows things, and he can make things happen. He doesn’t try to rationalise it, it is just part of him. It takes a blink of his eye before he is standing in Harry’s office that is so similar to his own that it is a little creepy. The difference being the large windows that peer out onto a vast plain of snow, the sun shining on it reflecting to a light that is almost hard on the eyes.

He barely gets his barings when a spritely brunette walks into the office. “What the hell?”

“Not hell. North Pole.” Louis replies, trying to look friendly.

“I know where we are at. Who are you?” He asks, coming into the room. That is until a very heavy footed, very over dressed man barges in behind him.

“Get out Niall.” Harry says, not even looking in the elf’s direction.

“Harry, who--” Niall starts, but suddenly the door mysteriously closes on his face, and Harry is meeting Louis lips first.

The kiss is nothing like a first kiss might be. It’s intense and passionate and right. It is a kiss that two people have been waiting their whole lives for, and Louis melts into it with his entire body.

“I wanted to kiss you too.” Harry breaks away to take Louis in. “I have no idea what to do, or what we even can do, but I wanted to kiss you too.”

Suddenly there is a loud bang on the door. “Harry! If you don’t open the door I am coming in! Are you ok? Are you hurt?”

“I am fine Niall!” Harry calls over his shoulder, which doesn’t stop Niall from coming in anyway.

“Is this who I think it is?” Niall stares at Louis like he is a carnival attraction.

“Louis.” Louis sticks his hand out. Niall just looks at it.

“Look pal, i don’t know what kind of spell you have over H here, but you aren’t fooling me.” Niall crosses his arms.

“Louis is spending Christmas with us.” Harry replies cheerfully, clearly ignoring the tension of the room. “You think Liam would want to come?”

“Um--” Louis looks over Harry’s shoulder at a brooding Niall. “Usually he wouldn’t be down for something so cheerful, but I think Niall might be enough to counteract it.” Harry laughs loudly and free, and Louis feels a wave of affection for him all over again.

“Invite him. Dinner is in about six hours, isn’t it Niall?”

“I’ve got my eye on you,” Niall says in response and walks out in a huff. Louis looks at Harry nervously, but Harry just grins.

“You were right.” Louis says. “Scarier.”

Harry laughs again, and pulls him in for another kiss.

 

***North Pole 2018***

Harry allows Louis to slide into the old worn seat before he climbs in himself. He feels a bit ridiculous in his heavy coat and gloves, while Louis has only a light sweater and a pair of jeggings. But Louis refused to dress just to make Harry feel better, and Harry could respect that.

“You look cold.” Harry says when they are settled because he can't let things go apparently. Louis just glares at him, and coming from the devil himself, a glare is significantly more intimidating than it might sound.

“I can't feel hot or cold,” Louis says for the millionth time with a steady and endlessly patient voice. Just to prove his point he stretches his legs and tilts his head towards the sun as though he were laying on a tropical beach, and not surrounded by snow and temperatures that dip well into the negative numbers.

“You don't have to do this you know. I can handle a few extra stops.” Harry smiles as he lifts the reigns, signalling to the reindeer that they would be taking off soon. Louis instantly claps his piece of crumpled paper to his chest.

“These are my kids. I'm delivering their presents!” Harry just puts a gloved hand in the air in surrender before he suddenly shouts out to the reindeer.

“On Dasher!” The whole sleigh comes to life, jolting forward, nearly dethroning the Prince of Darkness himself.

“You're not cute,” Louis says as he looks down at Harry's small village getting even smaller as they climb into the sky.

“I'm pretty cute.” Harry argues, and they are off.

~

Louis really has nothing to do on this Christmas Eve night but keep Harry company, and he isn't even much good for that unless they are crossing an ocean or something. When he delivered gifts all he had to do was just….appear. The whole process took less than half an hour on earth, but he doesn't mind. Any time he spends with Harry is worth it for him.

As they head home he looks over and sees Harry's eyes drooping, his posture slumped a little, but there’s still a smile between his rosy cheeks.

“Glad to be done?” Louis asks softly.

“Glad to be successful. Never quite ready to be done.” Harry replies, clearly something he has thought about before.

“Straight to bed after this?” Louis leans on him, enjoying the comfort of Harry's soft coat yet strong frame.

“Can you stay?” Harry asks in response. As though Louis’ presence depends on Harry keeping his eyes open for more than a moment once they land.

“I can stay until you fall asleep. I will be back by the time you wake up.” Louis says. It's not the first time. Harry's time and Louis’ time work differently. Eight hours of sleep for Harry on earth can feel like years for Louis down under. It has actually worked pretty well for them.

“What if I don't want to sleep?” Harry gives Louis what is likely supposed to be a suggestive grin, but he almost immediately suppresses it with a yawn.

“All the time in the world love. Tomorrow.” He places a kiss on Harry's cheek for good measure just as the village comes into view.

“I love you, Louis. Thank you for coming with me.” Harry says. His voice is thick with exhaustion, but his eyes are filled with affection.

“Thank you for letting me be part of it. It's more than what I could have dreamed.” Louis replies, barely containing the emotion that bubbles to the surface. “Let's go home.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was based on this [post on tumblr.](http://incurablenecromantic.tumblr.com/post/106535043037/eccentricmisseclectic-autisticdorumon-give)
> 
> Hello! This is the beta again. Please leave kudos or a comment if you liked this! Thanks for reading! And please [reblog this fic post if you liked it!](http://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/168835089431/sympathy-for-the-devil-written-by-taggiecb)


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